Joey
by Kreek
Summary: Joey's journey was determined by her run in with the two detectives. She vowed that someday, she would return the favor.


_**Disclaimer: **__Th__is is a non-profit story, written for 'fun' only.  
><em>_**Warnings**_**: **_spoilers for Trapped, Ninety nine pounds of trouble, and Sweet Revenge.  
><em>_**Rated:**__ K+  
><em>_**Genre: **__Drama  
>Beta work: By Barb<br>__**Characters:**__ Joey, Hutch  
><em>_**Summery:**__ Joey's journey was determined by her run in with the two detectives. She vowed that someday, she would return the favor.  
><em>_**Author's notes: **__This was written for the Cabrillo Con, last year. My thanks go to the wonderful people I've met over there, and the great time they gave me, even though I was so jet legged. Special thanks goes to Strut and Pony, who took me into their homes and made me feel welcome. One of the memories I cherish is Pony reading this story out loud to the both of us on a terrace in a 95 degree heat. _

* * *

><p><em><strong>Joey<strong>  
><em>_Kreek©June11_

The first time, she was running for her life, burning up from exertion and fear.

Open fields stretched out in front of her, so different from the city blocks Joey called her home. The vastness of her surroundings felt threatening, the open sky oppressive and smothering. While skirting thickets and jumping fences, reeds whipped against her legs as she ran through the fields, not seeing the landscape, only the houses in the distance where she would be safe.

Help. She had to get help.

A huge barn loomed over her, far larger than the one in which she had left the two detectives behind. She halted, pressing herself against its wooden wall welcoming her to its protection. Unfamiliar noises replaced the rushing sound in her ears, raising her anxiety up a notch. _Was that a cow?_ She picked up some sort of clucking. _Chickens?_ That could mean the farm to which this barn belonged was beyond the next meadow. Heaving, she bent over, hands on her knees. She prided herself that she didn't twitch a muscle when shoplifting. And she was fast. She could outrun a cop like Starsky anytime.

So why couldn't she stop shaking?

Something inside stirred, changed, and welled up, closing her throat with raw tenacity. She looked up, a soft breeze drying what she refused to call tears wetting her eyes. The wind smelled so clean it scared her. No, it wasn't the air or her being unaccustomed to the countryside.

They had made her leave. Starsky and Hutch...

She should continue walking.

The first step away from the wall was the hardest, but she persevered and moved around the barn. From there, she went through the meadow, grasses growing past her ankles, until a brownish blur moved into her field of vision.

She froze.

As did the horse staring at her with eyes as brown as its coat.

Every ounce of her told her to keep running, but her muscles wouldn't cooperate. It was like back when she was six years old and Bobby had stopped her bike in its tracks by driving a rod through the spikes of her wheel, causing her to topple over and injure her chin, elbow, and knees.

Black-and-white television came up woefully short when depicting a creature this tall standing this close to you. It smelled like the meadow, which the horse deemed snack worthy, for stems of yellowed reeds dangled from its mouth. The horse looked as startled as she was, frozen between one mouthful and the next. She giggled.

The horse pricked its ears forward.

"Hey, there." She kept her voice soft.

The ears moved again.

How could something that big have movements so subtle and look so beautiful? She was mesmerized. The horse snorted, causing her to jump, but then it lowered its head and continued grazing.

Urgency compelled her to move. Careful at first, she stepped forward. The horse looked as if it wasn't paying attention, but its ears twitched. It had its guard up. She grimaced—not so different him and her. _See? I can handle the outdoors. Nothing to be scared about. _But she was still shaking—inside and out—and was soon running again, faster and faster.

She loved the wild side of life. That's why she had engaged in some harmless petty crimes, why she'd crept in the back of Starsky's car, and had followed him and his partner back to that barn, where unfortunately, they had gotten trapped because some nutcase wanted revenge on Hutch.

_I was such a fool! _As she'd been lying in that barn, between a couple of haystacks, she had only found the thrill of danger that much more enticing—until Starsky and Hutch had started whispering. It was the small signals, the twitch of a muscle, the tension in their voices, but most of all the looks they shot each other that had made her stop and think again.

Did they know?

Tears welled up again. She started to tire, sore legs jerking her back to the present. She was relieved to see that a house was in sight. There were chickens, clucking loudly as she scattered them in her head-long flight to the front door. She had to admit, not even when her father had left was she this scared.

After the farmer had alerted local law enforcement, his wife sat her down at the table with some soup. She couldn't stop shaking. Had Starsky seen it? The moment he'd broken through her defenses? When he'd refused to leave Hutch?

Men weren't like that.

They lied and cheated; they hurt you and then they left. They did not keep you out of harm's way, weren't prepared to die for each other—for her. Starsky's actions were unrealistic and didn't fit in an angry world where people didn't give a damn.

What the hell had made Starsky think she was worth saving?

Staring at the hot liquid in front of her, she clasped onto the spoon, the effort to take a sip thwarted by her clenching stomach. Feeling trapped and blown wide open at the same time, she couldn't eat, or deal with the sudden rush of emotions. _Hutch and Starsky had better be alive_, because she had to ask them.

Did they know?

That they had made her start caring again.

* * *

><p>The second time, Joey was racing again—with hormones.<p>

"Why did you do it?" Steve squinted at her from beneath his hat with the football team's logo emblazed on it.

As practice had finished, they sat down on one of the benches lining the field, enjoying their lunch. Joey stared at him, the captain of the team who could have any girl but had fallen for her. Sighing, she thought over his question, stalling by looking deep into his eyes. "I owe them."

"But you got them the help they needed when they got trapped in that barn. They owed you."

She shrugged. "I guess."

"And when you went to call in the favor, Starsky rejected you, threw you out like a piece of garbage."

She bit her lip, well aware that in her drive to show how much she cared, she had developed a crush on Dave. He had thwarted her love, though, backed out on dates, and last week she had found out he was seeing someone else. She'd been so hurt, so angry. Although Steve hadn't known why, he'd been there to support her. "I should have left him to rot and gotten on with my life, right then and there."

"I would have done just that."

"And if I had, Hutch would be dead." She shivered. "I would like to think anger placed me at the right place and time to witness Hutch's undercover job going wrong, when the man he had stolen his identity from walked in."

"The fact remains you had no obligation to tell Starsky. Not after what he'd just done to you. It would have been a suitable revenge."

She shook her head. A few years ago, her selfish side would have won out. "I couldn't help myself; I had to get help."

"Why?"

_Because when I saw Hutch at the undercover joint, he looked so much older, so cold and bitter_—_a far cry from when I'd met him at that __jewelry__ store_—_and I wondered if he knew that Dave still cared._

"Because I care," she whispered.

* * *

><p>The third and last time she had met Hutch, she was standing in an alley, crying.<p>

"Your father was no different from mine, except that he had the good sense to split before he could do serious harm." Steve stared at her, seemingly unmoved by her tears.

She shrugged. "You just heard that he died; that doesn't mean you have to run out on me."

Steve's face twisted with a mock smile. "My father used to say I was his greatest pal. I believed him, until he beat my mom to death and left me to rot in foster care. All of my so-called parents pretended to be my friends. They were always making me leave after a few months; that's when I knew they had lied."

"So, now you're running because you're afraid to get too involved. With me. With someone who actually cares?" Her salty tears mingled with sweet water pouring from the skies, soaking them both from head to toe.

Steve shook his head. "Friendship is an illusion, Joey. Best to end it now before the bubble shatters."

She gritted her teeth. "I've never told you what happened in that barn, have I? Not really."

He snorted. "Oh, please, you've told me a thousand times already."

"I told you we got trapped, that they sent me for help, and I saved the day!" she yelled over the loud noise of the worsening weather. Anger got the best of her. How dare Steve question her loyalty, question how much she cared? She grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip, ignoring the startled look on his face. She'd never been this rough with him before, because of his past.

"What do you think friendship entails? Have a drink out on the docks, talk about this and that, and then when the conversation turns tough, you leave, or the other guy leaves, slamming the door in your face as he goes?"

"That's life, Joey."

She shook her head as rain splattered her face. "No, it isn't! Back in that barn, life for Starsky was staying put because if he didn't, he'd lose Hutch. Caring to the both of them meant letting the opportunity to escape slide by just so I could get away. They wanted me safe, Steve!" She let go of his arm.

A sad expression crossed her friend's wet-filmed features. "Nobody is that altruistic."

Her voice held no mercy for the pain in Steve's eyes. "After I got out, Dave got shot. It was his brush with death that caused Hutch to frantically cook up that crazy last-ditch escape plan. It was friendship that saved them, Steve. Their caring that saved me. That sure as hell wasn't an illusion!" She pointed a finger. "If you want to beg to differ, then go ahead and leave, because you'll not be worthy of my friendship." She halted her diatribe, shaking with anger.

Steve's gaze turned skyward. He swallowed before turning his attention back to her.

Was that a tear? Or was it the rain?

"So," he spoke, his expression softening. "You're saying that you're my friend?"

She smiled and nodded.

Everything would be okay now.

* * *

><p>Rain slid down his cheek, under his collar and down his chest. Hutch stood with his back pressed against one of Bay City's sad-looking apartment buildings.<p>

_Life for Starsky was staying put because if he didn't, he'd lose Hutch! _Is that what he had just overheard Joey say? He hadn't meant to listen in, he just happened to be touring his beat and its shady alleys when he had stumbled on Joey and her boyfriend.

It had been a long time since he had felt anything other than anger. He recalled the case from a little over a year ago, but had chosen to forget the emotional strain. Starsky had gotten hurt in that barn.

_It was his brush with death that caused Hutch to frantically cook up that crazy last-ditch escape plan._

Hutch lowered his head.

_It was friendship that saved them, Steve. Their caring that saved me. That sure as hell wasn't an illusion!_

Letting the rain batter his body in its succeeding attempt to soak him through to the bone, Hutch looked up. He'd cared, all right. Cared to hurt, to give every conversation with Starsky a sting to remember, to not give a damn, right up until he'd betrayed him by sleeping with his partner's girl. He didn't know when he'd started to feel so bitter—when he had stopped caring.

He took a couple of deep breaths. Even after all that, Starsky had forgiven him. Because his partner had understood; he'd always understood what Joey was talking about. How come a teenage girl knew Hutch better than he knew himself? Joey's words touched something he thought he had lost a long time ago.

Until last week.

When Gunther had Starsky shot within an inch of his life. That bond between them had snapped back into place, the hurt and caring telling him that his partner was dying. And he'd gone crazy.

Starsky was safe now, convalescing and out of danger. The all-out revenge trip on Gunther had left its mark, though. Coming down from a year's worth of anger was hard. Hutch wasn't sure he could find his way back—until now.

* * *

><p>Street smarts sure came in handy at times, like now, when Joey detected someone listening in on their conversation. She pushed Steve off of her and stared down the alley at its corner with Madison a few feet ahead. "Wait a second."<p>

"What is it?"

She motioned for him to keep quiet. Perhaps, it was a creep preparing to rob them; either that or it was someone getting his kicks from listening in to a private conversation. Hackles roused, she paced toward the corner, prepared to knock the guy's lights out if necessary. The last thing she expected was to see an all but drowned Hutch standing forlornly against the wall.

She stared at him in disbelief. Then embarrassment hit her. How much had he heard?

Hutch gave her a watery smile. "Thank you."

She opened her mouth, but it took a while before actual words came out. "For what?" Had she just somehow returned the favor she owed them? Hutch looked different, no longer bitter.

"Oh," he said, embracing her in a warm hug. "I think you know."

"I do?"

He pulled back. "Let's just say it takes a special someone to help you remember the better things in life, you know?"

_See?_ Hutch had never stopped caring. Dave would be pleased. "Yeah," she whispered and smiled. "I think I do." Her heart filled with joy. _Now, Hutch. __I do know, now._

**The End**


End file.
